Trust (36 page)

‘But school’s closed today,’ she said, bending down to him and taking both his hands. ‘It’s a pupil-free day, remember? No kids.’

‘But there’ll be
teachers
there,’ Finn said. ‘And I’ll be good, I will.’

‘Honey, you just have to stay home today and be good here.’ Angie gave him a kiss on his cheek. ‘Gabriel’s going to look after you.’ She dropped her voice. ‘But you know to be mousey-quiet, don’t you? Sweetheart? ’Cause Gabriel has to work on his music. And I have to go off to work now too, I really do.’

Finn drooped.

She’d have to hurry now to catch the train. At the door of the small room in which Gabriel worked on his music, Angie paused, fingers picking anxiously at the zip fastener on her bag. ‘Finn’s in his room, he won’t be any trouble, Gabriel,’ she said. ‘I’m so grateful to you for looking after him like this.’

‘Who else will have him, Angie?’ said Gabriel coolly. He leaned forward to the music stand, turned a sheet, and then fixed his green gaze upon her. ‘Can he go to Tim and Helen’s house? No, not after he tried to kill their daughter. Does he have any friends from school? No, not one. Can he go to your sister? No.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Angie murmured.

‘The question is, will he interfere with my work? Will he interrupt me, or has he learned how to behave?’

‘He
has
, Gabriel; he won’t be
any
trouble. Thank you!’

Finn had played with his toys, done some drawing, and sneaked out of his room just once, to go to the toilet. Now he lay on his bed, watching all the teeny bits of dust floating in a beam of sunlight coming through his window, thinking about how it was lunchtime. He was hungry. He’d been hungry for a while. He went to his door and opened it a crack, listening to the sound of Gabriel’s guitar, and his voice. The same song he’d been singing all morning, again and again.

‘Take what is ti-ny, take what is ten-der,

Take what can ne-ver, be taken away …’

Yes, it was safe. Finn stole silently down the hall to the kitchen and got out the bread, the butter, the honey, carefully so as not to make a noise. But when he was easing the cutlery drawer open to get a knife, somehow he pulled it too far and the whole thing fell to the floor. Ker-
rash
! Finn nearly jumped out of his skin; he cast a frightened look over his shoulder and was desperately trying to fit the drawer back onto its runners, when he sensed the man’s approach.

‘Your mother said you wouldn’t be any trouble.’

Finn got the drawer in, keeping his back turned. It was like having a monster under his bed:
don’t look, don’t look.

‘But you’re always trouble, aren’t you?’

Finn’s shoulders hunched defensively.

‘I
said
, you’re always trouble, aren’t you?’ Gabriel shouted right in his ear.

Finn was drawing his breath in little gasps, and trying to keep the gasps quiet, staring at the benchtop.
Capilano Honey
, said the label on the jar: red and yellow, and a stripey black bee. Gabriel gripped his shoulder and forced him to turn, then thrust his hand in front of Finn’s eyes, pointer finger curled up tight behind the thumb tip. ‘You,’ Gabriel said, and then he flicked his finger, hard, against the end of Finn’s nose. Face screwed up in pain, Finn jerked his head back but he was trapped, his back hard up against the bench. ‘Are,’ said Gabriel, and flicked him hard again, on the cheek this time. ‘Always,’ on the other cheek. ‘Trouble,’ on the tip of his nose again. ‘Aren’t you?’ he shouted.

‘I
hate
you!’ Finn screamed. ‘I
hate
you, you’re
evil
!’ He ducked under Gabriel’s arm and streaked away, heading for the backyard. He’d made it to the back door and was dragging it open when Gabriel caught up with him.

‘
Mum!
’ Finn shrieked as he was lifted clear off his feet. Angie had left some clothes soaking in the laundry trough. Face down into the water Gabriel thrust him, holding him there with one hand on the back of his head and one pressing down between his shoulderblades.

Finn was still screaming when his face hit the water and it rushed into his throat, his chest, his lungs, choking and burning. Wet cloth pressed horribly against his face. He kicked and squirmed, arms flailing, his chest pressing against the rounded metal edge of the trough. He could feel the hatred, a living murderous thing, coming through Gabriel’s hands as they held him down.
Kill him
, those hands were saying.

And then, just as suddenly, Finn was hauled free of the sucking water. The hands released him and he fell to the floor, fighting for air, water pouring off him and out of him, gushing from his mouth and nose.

The man stood motionless in front of him: his legs in their jeans, and his plain black shoes: one ordinary, one built up high. ‘Say you’re sorry,’ came his voice, from what seemed a great distance, but Finn, gasping and choking, couldn’t manage a word. The built-up shoe nudged him. ‘Say. You’re.
Sorry
.’

‘I’m – sorry –’ Finn gasped. A pause, and then a towel was dropped, half on top of him and half on the floor.

‘Get to your room. Be quiet. Don’t make me tell your mother what you did.’

‘It may be a small seed, it may be a great need …’

Finn had to push with all his might to get the window in his bedroom up, and as it lifted it made a thin screeching sound. He froze, terrified, listening not just with his ears but with his whole body.

But Gabriel continued to sing in his room down the hall.

‘It may be the one last hope that you hold …’

Without waiting another second, Finn pushed his backpack through the window and slid out after it, heart thumping, then ran as fast as he could go, all the way to the train station. There he waited, huddled in a corner, hidden by a machine that you could buy drinks and chips from, if you had the money. Finn had some money, but not enough for stuff from a machine.

When the train came he did just like Stella-Jean had shown him: he stood well back until it stopped and the doors opened, then he took a giant step inside. Safe inside. A few last drops of water trickled warmly from his ear. Gradually, his trembling stopped. Tucked up small on a seat in the almost deserted carriage, he looked out the window at backyards of houses whizzing by, and cars lined up behind white boom gates waiting for the train to go past, and thought about that last time he’d been on a train, when Stella had taken him into the city after school. They’d had a good time, just like she’d said they would, just like they always did. Then they met up with Seb, and they all waited for Jeejee. They were going to get pizza but they never did, because the car crashed.

Finn knew now why Stella-Jean didn’t get spared: God didn’t like her because she didn’t suck up to him. It was just like with Lucas Beal, or Grace and Lily: people said nice things about God because they were scared that otherwise he’d get them. All the things Gabriel said in his songs – he didn’t mean any of them, he just sang them to suck up to God. But if God was really so good, and so powerful, he wouldn’t care what people said about him; he wouldn’t care about Gabriel’s songs.
If God believes that stuff Gabriel says, he’s just stupid.
Stella had never believed Gabriel. And Stella never, ever, said anything she didn’t mean.

The train stopped at the big station in the city, and Finn climbed the stairs amid a whole crowd of people, feeling scared again, and small. At the gate he remembered you were supposed to put your ticket in to make it slide back and let you through. But he didn’t have a ticket, and the man in a uniform, standing to one side, was looking right at him.
I’m going to get caught
. Then the man reached down and pressed a button and the gate slid back, letting Finn go through even without a ticket.

A lady told him which tram to catch to the hospital; he watched carefully and got off at the right stop. Walking up to it from the road, the building loomed, much bigger than the times he’d come there with his mum to visit Stella. Then, they drove in to the car park and walked across on the bridge thing.
This is supposed to be the same hospital they brought me to that night in the ambulance
, but Finn couldn’t quite believe that. This was Stella-Jean’s hospital.

He walked in the big front doors, past all the people and the desks and the wheelchairs wheeling in and out, and straight over to the lifts. He knew the way up to her room; people always said he didn’t pay attention to things, but he did. In the lifts Finn suddenly thought,
What am I going to say if Stella’s mum is there?
She’d been there every time they’d visited. But when he sneaked a look around the door there was only Stella-Jean.

He stepped inside and closed the door softly behind him. He said, ‘Hello, Stella,’ and picked up one of her hands and gave it a squeeze; her eyes kind of flickered but that was all. ‘I got here all by myself,’ he whispered. ‘I came on the train all by myself. I climbed out my window and I ran away.’ Leaning on the bed, propped on his elbows, Finn told her what had happened, every single thing, even the name on the honey jar. The way the water had seemed to
burn
inside him. ‘Then he made me say
sorry
,’ he told her, and hot tears plopped from his eyes. He lay his head down next to hers. ‘I only said it because I was scared. But you know what, Stella? It was a lie!’

She was listening to everything. He could
feel
her listening.

‘You believe me, don’t you?’ Finn said.

Stella-Jean said, ‘Mmm, mmm.’

Finn gasped and jerked up. ‘You said
yes
, didn’t you, Stella?’ he said. ‘You said, yes I believe you!’ His mouth was wobbly from trying not to cry. ‘Thank you, Stella,’ he said in a little squeaky voice.

‘Mmm, mmm,’ she said again.

A nurse came in, stopped, frowned.

‘Hello,’ she said in a loud voice. ‘Who are you, dear?’

Finn said nothing, just stared at her, holding Stella-Jean’s hand. And then it was like Stella poked him, not really with her finger, but – inside his head, somehow.
Tell her you’re my cousin
, he heard her say, except he didn’t actually hear her.

‘I’m her cousin.’

‘Oh, her cousin. I see,’ the nurse said. She was looking around the room. ‘You’re here on your own?’

‘No, my mum’s here,’ said Finn. ‘She just went down to the cafeteria.’

‘I see,’ the nurse said again. ‘Well, it might be a good idea for you to go down to the cafeteria too. Tell your mum it’s Stella-Jean’s bath-time, and there are other things we have to do too. No point coming back for a good hour. Okay?’

‘Okay,’ said Finn, and skedaddled.

As soon as he got near the cafeteria and smelt the food he realised how hungry he was. He’d been here with his mum and auntie, he knew what to do. You took a tray and joined the line, and then put the things you wanted to eat on the tray, but before you could go to a table and eat it, you had to pay. But what if he didn’t have enough money for the food he picked? Then he would get in trouble and they’d find out he wasn’t meant to be there. Finn hesitated, rubbing the sore part of his chest where the laundry trough had bruised him, as he wondered what to do. Just then, a man sitting at a table just in front of him got up and left, having barely touched any of the fried chicken and chips on his plate. When he was sure the man wasn’t coming back, Finn sat down and ate everything he’d left, even the mushy peas and carrots.

As he waited in the cafeteria till he could go back to Stella-Jean, he got out his drawing of Robo-Boy and together they played out what
should
have happened in the laundry. This time, when Gabriel tried to catch Finn and hold his head under the water, Robo-Boy grabbed hold of Gabriel and held
his
head under the water instead. Robo-Boy held Gabriel down till he was finished. Dead.
You’re dead now, Gabriel
, he said in his big strong robot voice, and then he threw him away, dropped him in the wheelie bin and said,
Good riddance to bad rubbish!
That was something Jeejee used to say. And then Finn’s mum came home and thanked Robo-Boy for putting Gabriel in the rubbish and saving her son. ‘He’s my special little guy,’ she said, and Robo-Boy said,
I know
.

‘That’s right, Robo-Boy,’ said Finn softly. ‘Good riddance to bad rubbish. The End.’ He put the drawing of his one-armed protector away again, safe till next time.

The cafeteria didn’t have any windows, but on the way back to Stella-Jean’s room he passed some and saw that the day was almost over. He wondered if Stella slept with the light on – but she was asleep all the time, no matter whether it was daytime or night-time, so she probably didn’t care. Finn was nervous. It seemed like there were more people around, nurses and visitors, but there was still no one else in Stella-Jean’s room. He closed the door behind him. ‘I’ve gotta stay with you, Stella, so Gabriel can’t get me.’ There was a cushion on the chair that his auntie usually sat in, and a knitted rug: he took them and his backpack and quickly, before anybody came in, he slipped under Stella-Jean’s bed and curled up as small as he could, right up against the wall, with his thumb in his mouth and Robo-Boy standing guard beside him.

He slept, he didn’t know for how long, and was woken by the door being pushed open in a rushing sort of way, and a loud voice saying, ‘I’ll check her room, just in case.’ Bright lights were snapped on: he could see shoes and legs and the bottom part of a nurse’s uniform come in, stop, and turn around in a circle. The nurse was looking, carefully. For him.

Stella-Jean’s hand suddenly appeared, hanging over the side of the bed.
Hold my hand, Finn
. He scooted silently toward it on the cool vinyl floor, and slid his small hand into hers.

The shoes, the legs, walked over to the bed. A sideways face appeared, looking straight at him. The woman’s eyes and mouth went very round with surprise and she said, ‘
Oh!
’ Then the face disappeared, the legs ran to the door and the voice called out, ‘He’s here! That kid they rang about, he’s
here
.’